


The Commander's New Clothes

by Auriana Valoria (AuriV1)



Series: The Lady Herald and Her Lion [17]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Orlesian Culture and Customs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 11:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11334516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuriV1/pseuds/Auriana%20Valoria
Summary: Inquisitor Trevelyan and her Commander are late to a diplomatic affair with Orlesian nobility, and it's partly her fault.





	The Commander's New Clothes

Verana-Kathryn Trevelyan’s slippered feet padded softly as she made her way across the stone bridge of Skyhold to Cullen’s watchtower. Garbed in but a single layer of silk, she shivered in the evening air as she picked up her skirt a little and hastened her pace. If they didn’t hurry, they would be late to their private dinner with Lord and Lady Montelle, an affair arranged by Josephine in an effort to secure the nobles’ financial support. The Orlesians had kindly sheltered a group of Inquisition soldiers who had been severely wounded in a fight with Venatori in the Emerald Graves, and the Ambassador had taken it upon herself to invite the Lord and Lady to Skyhold to meet the Inquisitor and Commander personally in hopes of advancing diplomatic relations.

Verana had expected Cullen to arrive at the keep early for the occasion, as he was wont to do. This evening, however, he was stalling until the last possible minute, and she had a feeling she knew why. Josephine had insisted they dress properly for such a meeting with Orlesian nobility, and an appropriate outfit had to be ordered for the Commander to wear in place of his armor. Though Verana had insisted on having a hand in the creation of the garb to tailor it more to his tastes, she knew it was probably still too fancy for his liking.

Too _Orlesian_.

She quietly opened his office door and peered within, fully expecting him to be sitting at his desk still in his armor. However, to her great surprise, there he stood, in his new outfit, before a full-length looking glass that he usually kept hidden and protected behind a mountain of supplies in the far corner. He had his back to her, but she could also see his reflection in the mirror, and the sight stunned her to speechlessness. She put a hand to her mouth to suppress her soft gasp, and her insides fluttered wildly.

_Andraste help me…_

The outfit she had ordered was a waist-length, tall-collared tailcoat in dark burgundy velveteen, double-breasted with twinkling gold buttons, under which could be seen small flashes of a gold satin vest, and at his throat was tied a matching plain silk cravat, much like that which Josephine wore. Sleek, form-fitting black breeches, accented by a tiny gold strip of satin down the outside of each leg, were tucked into black boots, embellished at the knees with lion-head brass bosses and polished to a high shine. On his hands were matching black pointed gauntlets, nearly reaching to his elbows and accented with the same gold buttons as his coat. There was not an abundance of decorative embroidery other than plain gold edging, but it wasn’t required. The simplicity of the outfit allowed the observer to see just how well its cut accentuated his broad-shouldered form, and that was what was truly stunning about it.

At that moment, he glanced over his shoulder to see her watching him, and the fierce scowl etched onto his freshly-shaven face softened somewhat. The Inquisitor felt her cheeks redden a little in response, and she stepped fully into the office, closing the door behind her.

“Maker, I look ridiculous,” he sighed in exasperation, shaking his head as he tugged at his cravat.

“You look _wonderful_ ,” she corrected.

“No, my lady. That would be you, not me, I’m afraid,” he replied, and she felt her blush deepen. Her own garb was similarly simple; the maroon dress was an off-the-shoulder, long-sleeved style, as was currently popular at the Orlesian court, but it bore no adornment save for a small bit of black lace at the cuffs and hem and a broad black belt at her waist. Her raven hair she had kept loose about her bare shoulders, and she self-consciously tucked on side of it behind her ear as she smiled slightly at his words.

Before she could respond, he glanced back at the mirror and added, “I, however, look like a…a-”

“Sophisticated gentleman,” she supplied, sidling up beside him. As they both looked at each other in the mirror, she leaned into him, and he curled an arm around her waist to pull her nearer. “Just like you did at Halamshiral.”

“You shouldn’t have done this.”

“Oh?” she asked, raising her brows as she turned and lifted her blue-violet eyes to meet his amber ones. “All evidence is to the contrary, my dear Commander,” she added, unable to resist pressing a hand to his chest. The velveteen was already warm.

“You knew I would hate it and did it anyway.”

A smirk tugged at her lips, “I could have told them to keep the puff sleeves, the lace, and the flared breeches.”

His flat gaze very nearly turned into a fiery glare.

“I love you,” she only half-apologized, punctuating it with a broad grin.

At that, his eyelids dropped a bit, so that his golden irises were shaded by his lashes. “I know,” he replied softly, his voice that husky whisper that sent chills down her spine. “And so I’ll endure it for you. Not for the sake of those Orlesians. You.”

Her grin melted into a gentle smile, and she stood on her tiptoes to peck a brief kiss on his lips. She could tell that he wanted it to be longer, from the way he reluctantly let her pull away, but now wasn’t the time for that. She pulled at his arm and jerked her head towards the door with a wink, “Come on. If we hurry, we’ll be fashionably late. Orlesians love to be fashionably late.”

He chuckled, “As you wish, Inquisitor.”

They were all the way to the keep doors before she added, “And Cullen?”

“Yes, love?”

“You _do_ look wonderful.”

His only response was another heavy sigh.


End file.
